


swear it won't take you long

by seventhstar



Series: love's like a runway [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Project Runway Fusion, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Every Version Of Katsuki Yuuri Has Stripped While Drunk, Katsuki Yuuri's Depraved Victor Fantasies, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Pole Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 22:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13797468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar/pseuds/seventhstar
Summary: “Hello?”“You pole dance!”“…okay?”“I’m watching the episode now.”“What! No. Don’t do that. It’s really bad.”“I have to, there were previews, you aren’t wearing pants.”





	swear it won't take you long

**Author's Note:**

> The saga continues!

Viktor calls him at an ungodly time one evening. Yuuri is in his studio, working; he hears the phone go off. (Yuuri’s ringtone for Viktor is the creepy Crazy In Love remix from the Fifty Shades soundtrack. He’s not sure why; possibly drunk Yuuri did it and erased the memory with tequila.) He has to scramble for the phone, which is in his coat pocket.

He doesn’t normally take calls while working, but everything is hideous and Yuuri has no idea how to get the train back on the rails. He’s panicking.

“Hello?”

“You pole dance!”

“…okay?”

“I’m watching the episode now.”

“What! No. Don’t do that. It’s really bad.”

“I have to, there were previews, you aren’t wearing pants.”

“Wait. Let me get my computer so we can watch together.”

Maybe Yuuri can distract him from all the embarrassing portions. Maybe he can coax Makkachin into knocking Viktor’s television over. Maybe he can…do something. Anything.

He sprints back to his apartment and settles into the nest of blankets, sheets, and pillows, none of which match and most of which are hideous because he bought them off Craigslist. The laptop goes on his stomach; Yuuri dials Viktor hurriedly and then pulls up the episode. He winces as he sees himself in the preview thumbnail.

Mistakes were made.

Ever since Yuuri was released from New York to begin work on his collection, he and Viktor have been talking. Not as much as Yuuri would like, since he has to create a twelve look collection in twelve weeks and everything he makes is flaming garbage, but still. A part of Yuuri had wondered if Viktor had meant something else with his note, if he just wanted to hire Yuuri for design purposes, if tiny hearts were just his aesthetic.

Having been talking to Viktor for eight wild weeks, Yuuri is reasonably certain this is not a business relationship. One, because Viktor has not suggested he wants to pay Yuuri to design anything, and two, because Viktor keeps text him cute dog memes and calling to ask him how he feels about random things, like fairy tales or beet soup.

“Yuuri!” Viktor appears onscreen, face covered in a bright blue clay mask, with damp hair. He’s not wearing a shirt. Yuuri is not sure Viktor ever wears clothes at home. Phichit insists this constant nudity is for Yuuri’s benefit, but Yuuri’s not convinced.

 _He’s trying to seduce you,_ Phichit keeps saying.

 _But I’m already seduced,_ Yuuri keeps saying, _and we’re just_ talking.

Yuuri doesn’t have time for romance, anyway, he’s supposed to be finishing his stupid collection for Fashion Week.

“Are you ready? I’m already five minutes in. You’re so pretty.”

“I…what? Okay. Thanks.” Yuuri fastforwards through the ‘last week on Project Runway’ bits to where he thinks Vktor is. God, Viktor is delusional, Yuuri looks like the mold at the bottom of a bottle of year old salsa. The night before the challenge, they’d all been allowed to go to a strip club. Things got…spicy. Drunk Yuuri has a lot of sins to answer for.

Anya is announcing the challenge. “For this week’s challenge, you will be dressing one of these amazing dancers!”

At which point several pole dancers from the night before strut onstage and begin dancing with each other. They really are good. The Yuuri onscreen looks less than enthusiastic, probably because next to him Chad is elbowing him and whispering ‘you did that move last night!’

All of them are randomly assigned a dancer. This part of the episode is okay, except for all the interviews where the other designers mention how wild Yuuri was last night, and Yuuri zones out through most of it. He watches himself work, cringing at his crazy hangover eyes. Viktor is humming as he watches, with the occasional sound of delight.

“Is blue your favorite color, Yuuri?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s so glittery! I love it.”

Yuuri’s design for this challenge covers more skin than most of the other ones do, although he’s designed it so that almost everything can be taken off if needed. There’s a vest in blue, sparkly mesh and a design in red down the back, meant to emphasis the long lines of the body. There are tiny shorts. There are artfully ripped stockings.

Viktor’s words make Yuuri imagine him wearing it, which…oh, God. Viktor would look great in tiny shorts. Yuuri should make him some. For science.

Lost in these pleasant thoughts, Yuuri makes the fatal mistake of forgetting what happened during the morning of the runway show on that day. Chad had been having problems with his client, who was late the day before, and when she didn’t show up for hair and makeup, he threw a fit. A replacement model wasn’t available, and Chad insisted that a new model wouldn’t fit into his garment.

Yuuri, still dealing with a pounding headache, could not handle that nonsense.

“He can have mine,” he offers. His client acquiesced. That left Yuuri with Georgi, putting the finishing touches on his garment as Georgi hovered over him.

“Are you sure, Yuuri? This will put you at a disadvantage, since the judges won’t know how your design performs on a pole.”

“It’s fine.”

“Well, you know best. You will become a beautiful prince of pole dancing and seduce all the judges with every step. Rule over this.”

“Oh my god,” Viktor is saying as Yuuri covers his face with his hands to block out past hungover Yuuri’s determined face. “Yuuri! You didn’t!”

“I had to. Chad was giving me a migraine.”

“He’s so awful, I can’t believe they didn’t get rid of him sooner.”

“Ratings.”

“Mm. Shh, I want to see you dance!”

Yuuri is seen ducking behind a folded screen to change; he has to ask Yuri to zip him up. He lets hair and makeup do what they want with him—metallic liner, red lips, false lashes—before he joins the others in line for the runway. The designers titter at him as they go to take their seats.

The woman next to him, dressed in Sara’s sleek black bikini, pats his arm consolingly.

“You’ll do great,” she says.

Yuuri is on first, because of course he is.

Viktor squeals as the music starts to play. Yuuri watches himself stalk down the runway in the six inch heels—he looks kind of scary—and then cringes as his past self grabs the pole. And lifts himself onto it. And flips upside down before hanging on with his thighs. And does a spin before dismounting, sliding down the pole sensually one last time, and prowling offstage.

Chad’s mouth is hanging open. Anya’s brows are both raised as she writes. The next client comes out to do her routine; Yuuri moans, turns off the video, and flops back onto his bed. Viktor saw that.

“I can’t believe you could do all those things with your body and you never showed me!”

“You’re an Olympic athlete!”

“Yes, but you’re so…ugh. I wish you were here so I could kiss you.”

“Uh.”

“A lot.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth today and I ate marmalade eggs for breakfast.”

“Oh, that’s—you ate what?”

“Never mind!”

“Yakov would be furious if I flew to America to kiss you.”

“I can’t kiss anyone, I still have to make five entire outfits.”

Viktor pouts.

Yuuri resists the urge to slam the laptop shut so Viktor can’t see his face.

“You’re a mean boyfriend, Yuuri.”

“Sor—a _what_ now?”

“I understand. You have to win the competition. I’ll win my next competition, too. I’ll bring you the medal at the finale.” Viktor laughs. “Wow, Chad’s outfit is so ugly!”

Yuuri reluctantly opens up the episode again and fastforwards to the judging. There’s Sara’s client, who is complaining her outfit doesn’t give her enough freedom of movement; there’s Yuri, who is matching his client in hot pink leopard print and faux fur; and there is Chad, whose poor client is wearing his denim monstrosity. Chad had felt the best way to get the Asian influence he wanted was to give his client a slutty schoolgirl outfit, complete with pigtails and long socks.

The judges roast him first, then chide Sara for not thinking about functionality. Yuri is praised for satisfying his client’s luxurious animal print dreams. And then…

Yuuri mutes the video and covers his face with a pillow.

“Wow, amazing!” Viktor is saying. Yuuri wonders what he’s talking about.

They’re showing the strip club footage of Yuuri dancing. They’re showing him perched on some muscular dude’s thighs, tie tied around his head, wearing the ugliest boxers Yuuri owns. _Is this even allowed on Lifetime,_ Yuuri wonders. _Is the FCC gonna come after me? What the fuck?_ Drunk Yuuri is circling the pole onscreen, doing that thing with his hips that the instructor spent weeks trying to teach him to do (”Loose, Katsuki! Loose! You are enthralling men to take their souls!”). Chad is visible off the side, mouth open. Is he disgusted? How dare he, he literally made a pleated miniskirt and called it a day.

Then Chad starts waving around money and shoving it into the waistband of Yuuri’s boxers.

Which is gross. _Not disgusted, then,_ Yuuri thinks. _Just disgusting. And also explains why I woke up with two hundred dollars in sweaty fives and ones._

“I want to be crushed between your thighs until I die,” Viktor says.

“That’s weird,” Yuuri says without thinking. “There’d be no point having you between my thighs if you were dead.”

There is a silence. The credits are playing; Yuuri closes the window and pulls up Skype again, then tilts the laptop screen until he’s visible on camera again. He looks terrible, like he hasn’t slept (he hasn’t) with a stain on his shirt (fabric dye) and red cheeks (why is he talking to Viktor about his thighs). Viktor is wiping off his mask with a wet towel and emerging glowing and shiny, like a Milotic evolving from Feebas.

 _Maximum beauty,_ Yuuri thinks, watching the way the water drips down Viktor’s cheek, falls down his neck, and chest, vanishes somewhere over his chiseled abdomen. He wonders what it’s like to be Viktor, to Skype a dime-a-dozen fashion designer while in the bathroom performing arcane skincare rituals, and to still look fabulous doing it.

God, Yuuri wants to dress him again. He has so many ideas. He wants to drape sheer muslin over Viktor’s body. Slowly. Sexually.

“Well, Yuuri? What do you want me to do between your legs? Since dying is apparently off the table.

“…no comment.” _I want you to blow me while wearing some ugly off-the-rack suit so I can ruin it with my come._

Viktor winks at him. Yuuri has to look away, mostly because he feels like he’s going to explode. His eyes land on the clock on the nightstand and holy shit, he has to get back to work.

“I have to go,” Yuuri says reluctantly. “My collection—”

“Okay! I have practice, too. Makkachin, come say bye to Yuuri!”

Viktor turns his phone so that it’s facing the open door to his bedroom; Yuuri gets a glimpse of the bed, which looks enormous and pink, before the entirety of the screen is just fluffy brown poodle happiness. Makkachin tries to lick the camera. Yuuri’s heart melts right there.

“How is your collection going?”

“Okay,” Yuuri says. “I’m not as inspired as I usually am…I’m not really sure what to do.”

“When I need inspiration I normally put on some music and take Makkachin for a long walk,” Viktor offers.

“I miss having a dog. Maybe I…” Yuuri trails off as inspiration strikes him like a bowling ball being thrown through wet paper. “Poodles!”

“What!

“That’s the theme of my collection. Poodles. I have to remake everything.”

“That’s the best theme,” Viktor says excitedly. “Okay! I can’t wait to see it in New York! And afterward we can go on a date to celebrate your win!”

“Is making the print tiny poodle polka dots too literal?”

“You can never have too many poodles.”

“You’re right. Poodles. That’s who I am as a designer.” Yuuri rubs his face with his hands. He has so much work to do and only four more weeks and in between finishing the work he now has to come up with a nice date outfit in case this whole winning Project Runway thing actually happens. What a mess. “Bye.”

“Bye!” Yuuri sees Makkachin give up and start demanding pets from Viktor before the call ends.

He sighs, pushes his laptop to the side, and begins rummaging around for clean clothes. He needs to clear his mind before he goes back down; maybe a hot shower and a hot meal will do it. He has the shape of an idea in his mind—casual wear, poodle prints, cuffed pants—but he also hears the voice of his inner Georgi. _You must become the alpha poodle of this pack, and all the designs must be your poodle children, individual puppies that embody your unique design aesthetic. Woof. Rule over this._

_“You’re a mean boyfriend, Yuuri.”_

Yuuri shivers and presses a hand to his pounding heart. “One crisis at a time, Katsuki.”

(The poodles that Yuuri ends up drawing for his winning collection all look suspiciously like Makkachin. Viktor is delighted.)

**Author's Note:**

> There'll be one more fic, I think, regarding Yuuri and Viktor modeling his gay collection. Possibly Yuuri will wear that Eros gown while Viktor applies his lipstick.


End file.
